Embers of the Heart ; George Weasley

Seventeen - 2.0

As Angelina sat on the sofa, pale and trembling, a wave of nausea swept over her again. She had been feeling ill for a week now, always at certain times of the day. It wasn't like any illness she had experienced before, and deep down, a nagging suspicion gnawed at me.

"Aurora, I don't know what's wrong with me." Angie murmured, her voice tinged with worry. "I've been feeling like this for days now."

I sat down beside her, concern etched on my face. "Have you considered..." I started cautiously, but the words trailed off as I glanced at her face.

She met my gaze, her eyes filled with uncertainty. "You think I might be..."

I nodded, handing her the pregnancy test with trembling hands. "It might be worth checking."

Angie took it silently, her fingers shaking as she followed the instructions. We waited in tense silence, each passing second feeling like an eternity.

Finally, the result appeared, and Angie's breath caught in her throat as she stared at the two pink lines.

Tears welled up in her eyes, but they were not tears of joy. They were tears of fear, of sadness, of feeling utterly lost without Fred by her side.

"I'm pregnant." she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper.

I reached out, wrapping my arms around her trembling form. "Oh, Angie..."

She buried her face in my shoulder, her sobs wracking her body as she let out all the emotions she had been holding in. It was a heartbreaking moment, knowing that this news, which should have been a cause for celebration, only served to deepen her grief.

George came into the room, his eyes filled with concern as he took in the scene before him. "What's wrong?"

I looked up at him, my own eyes filled with tears. "Angie's pregnant." I said softly, my voice breaking with emotion.

George's face softened and he knelt beside us, wrapping his arms around Angelina as she cried. "It's going to be okay, Angie." he murmured, his voice gentle and soothing.

But we all knew that it wouldn't be okay, not really. Not without Fred. And as we sat there, holding each other close, the weight of his absence hung heavy in the air, a reminder of the gaping hole he had left behind.

—

A few days after Angelina confided in me about her pregnancy, we made our way to St. Mungo's Hospital together for her first prenatal appointment. The walk through London was unusually quiet, the city bustling around us as if unaware of the weight on our shoulders.

Angelina walked beside me, her hands folded in front of her, occasionally resting on her stomach with a mix of wonder and apprehension.

The morning sunlight filtered through the windows of St. Mungo's as we entered the hospital. The reception area was calm and serene, with soft chairs arranged neatly in clusters. Angelina checked in at the front desk, her voice barely above a whisper as she provided her details. Her nervousness was palpable, her fingers fidgeting with the strap of her bag.

"Are you nervous, Angie?" I asked softly as we waited for our turn.

She nodded, her eyes fixed on a spot on the floor. "Terrified." she admitted in a hushed voice. "I wish Fred were here."

I reached out, squeezing her hand reassuringly. "I know, Angie. He should be here with you."

After what felt like an eternity, our names were called, and we followed Healer Thompson down a corridor adorned with portraits of past headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts. The atmosphere was calming, the soft light from enchanted sconces casting a warm glow.